


Not That it Mattered

by UnicornAttack



Category: Inglourious Basterds (2009)
Genre: Dirty Talk, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-30
Updated: 2013-04-30
Packaged: 2017-12-10 00:10:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/779560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnicornAttack/pseuds/UnicornAttack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Donny was different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not That it Mattered

Most of the guys Omar slept with back at home were reminiscent of Utivich: young, clean-shaven, clean-cut students who had come straight off of the New England prep school conveyor belt and straight into Princeton or Harvard. They were all so dull. Satisfying for one night, sure, but nothing more than that. More often than not they were simply curious to know what having another man was like. Not that Omar minded, really - he could work with that; it was just so boring having to carefully guide some nervous law student with irritatingly neat hair through the steps yet again. Donny was a nice change. He was muscular and rough and sweaty, and getting fucked by him left Omar giddy. He wasn't timid or unsure of himself or nervous, in spite of the wife and son Omar knew he had back in Boston. Omar never doubted that Donny still loved them both; he didn't wear his wedding ring, but that was because the lieutenant had advised him not to (according to Lieutenant Raine, if your enemy knew something personal about you - like, for instance, that you were married - they wouldn't hesitate to use it against you), so he kept it with the rest of his belongings, safe and hidden, out of harm's way. Omar sometimes wondered if he was just a replacement for Donny's wife, or whether Donny genuinely felt something for him.  
Not that it mattered.

After what passed for dinner (watery stew with what may have been vegetables floating lifelessly in it), when everyone was either asleep or falling asleep (apart from Kagan, who was on the first watch for the night), Donny and Omar snuck out of camp and away from the others. It was probably dangerous, but neither of them cared. They found a conveniently-sized rock to hide behind. Donny kissed Omar roughly as he began to undress him.  
"You're different, you know that? Different from the others," Omar clarified as Donny simultaneously kissed his neck and undid his fly.  
"What, the other Basterds?"  
"No. The other guys I've ever slept with - yeah, shit, that's good..."  
"How'm I different?" Donny asked. He had pulled his grubby wifebeater over his head, exposing his broad hairy chest.  
"You're...manly," Omar replied. He rolled his eyes at the way Donny grinned upon hearing this.  
"Manly?" Donny echoed. He produced a small tube of lubricant from his back pocket before removing his pants and tossing them aside. They were both naked now, and even though it was a warm night, Omar shivered. Donny uncapped the tube and squeezed a little out onto his fingers. "You ready for this?"  
Omar nodded. Considering the (perhaps surprising, given their circumstances) frequency with which Donny fucked him - never the other way around; the Bear Jew, as Donny himself had said, was NOT a catcher - he didn't need as much preparation any more. Donny lifted him up and wrapped his legs around his waist. He slid one thick finger inside the smaller man and worked it around a little before adding another, stretching him further.  
"You're the best judge, aren't'cha?" he asked. "You think that's OK?"  
"Yeah," Omar gasped. "C'mon, Donny. Hurry up."  
"Patience is a virtue," Donny mock-scolded him, imitating a rather stern and humourless officer the Basterds had encountered during special training called Karlsen. He had been a slimy, knock-kneed bureaucrat. Donny shook his head a little, pushing all thoughts of Karlsen and training from his head and focusing on the gasping, writhing naked man in front of him. He braced himself against the rock and pushed inside Omar.  
"Ohh, fuck, that's good," Omar groaned, his voice high-pitched and breathy.  
"Try and keep it down," Donny hissed. "Do you want Kagan hearin' us?"  
The thought of Kagan - the second-youngest and possibly naivest out of all of them - coming over to investigate suspicious noises only to find the Bear Jew and Private Ulmer fucking behind a rock, both of them buck-ass naked and moaning like five-dollar whores, really was quite an amusing one. Omar had to bite down on his lip to stop himself from laughing.  
"You like that, princess?" Donny growled quietly, low and raw.  
"Fuck, yes, oh Donny - "  
"I love you like this. Legs wide open for me like the fuckin' whore you are. Who do you belong to?"  
"Y-you, Donny," Omar whimpered. He was beginning to get hard. "Only you."  
"Good boy," Donny muttered. He sped up and began pounding into Omar mercilessly; the sound of skin slapping rhythmically against skin was traitorously, torturously loud in the still silence of the forest, and all Omar could do was close his eyes and pray Kagan didn't hear them. After a few minutes, Donny suddenly went still and let out a barely audible gasp as he came inside Omar. Pulling out, he grabbed Omar's cock, which was now fully erect. He jacked it a few times and then leaned in so that his lips almost brushed Omar's ear.  
"Come for me, slut."  
Climax hit Omar like a brick to the stomach and he clung to Donny for dear life, making strange gasping noises. He shook a little as Donny gave his flaccid dick one final squeeze and then let go. They stood in silence for some time: naked, sweating and panting softly. The moon crept out from behind a cloud to illuminate them.  
"Thank you," he said quietly. Donny patted his cheek.  
"You're welcome."  
They gathered up their clothes and got dressed again. Omar leaned up and kissed Donny on the lips, slower and gentler than earlier, caressing the taller man's face tenderly. He broke away after a few seconds and they walked back to camp in silence. Even though Kagan, sitting up on a small ledge that overlooked the sleeping soldiers, had his back turned to them, Omar knew that he'd heard them.  
Not that it mattered.


End file.
